


Cosa Nostra

by Kida_T



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Human Hancock, I'm shitty as summaries, Tried to keep everything as in lore as possible tho, slightly AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-26 21:28:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10795101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kida_T/pseuds/Kida_T
Summary: Rewrote this story because I didn't have the timeline thought out completely. Slightly AU story that takes place before the main events of Fallout 4.A prewar criminal subjected to scientific experiments is found 200 years later by the very detective who helped put her away. She struggles to cope with being thrown into the post-apocalyptic wasteland whilst finding comfort in a young man who thirsts for new adventure.





	Cosa Nostra

**Author's Note:**

> !!!TRIGGER WARNING!!!!  
>  PLEASE READ THIS PRIOR TO THE STORY  
> I'm going to put a bit of a trigger warning here. The main character of this story is VERY anti-police. The statements made in this story have nothing to do with my own personal thoughts or opinions. The character's past is based on real events, particularly the March 14th Lynchings of New Orleans and just the hatred in general to Italians in the early 1900s.  
> If reading about violence towards officers of the law will upset you, please turn away now.

                 A thick silence filled the courtroom like fog as Judge William S. Parkerson returned from his chambers and took his seat at the podium. He took a few minutes to rearrange the papers on his desk. It was infuriating. People had been waiting for this sentencing for well over a year. The victims' families were here. Friends. A few victims themselves even. Enough people have showed up there were lines outside of the door. Everyone in Boston was just trying to get a glance of _The Phantom of Chicago._

  
      Perhaps the judge was just enjoying the limelight. The chauvinistic pig. I knew he didn't somehow feel guilt at sentencing a 15 year old girl to life in prison or death. Because I wasn't just a girl. I was Italian. A dagoe. Not just that but I was _albino_. Everyone on the east coast spreading all the way back home to Italy knew that the only albino Italians were the children of the most brutal mob boss to ever live, Typhon. As far as the judge was concerned, I was a criminal the second I was born on Italian soil.  
  Typhon Piovra was said to not even be human, but Hades himself taking a mortal form to cause chaos on earth. He was Capo di tutti capi of the mafia. The Boss of Bosses. He was ruthless. A murderer. A thief. He was darkness himself. Said to be born of the shadows and able to materialize anywhere in the world. His children were said to just be more monsters the darkness released on the world to destroy.

  
Just stories mothers told their bigoted children. I knew better. I knew who Typhon was. He was just a selfish man with too much money. A trait Judge Parkerson shared.

  
   I looked to my lawyer to my right. Nora Delaney. She was a sweet woman. A bit pushy. But a woman had to be in this world. I can't believe she stayed on the case. I had done my best to threaten and intimidate her in hopes she would back out. I almost feel bad that I made her lose her first big case. That's why I intended on just representing myself. But the poor thing saw through every dead fish I would leave in her mailbox and every broken window. She said that I wasn't evil, I was just sick. And that I needed mental health instead of prison. Must be the hormones. I had never met a woman lawyer before her. I had only met her a few weeks ago when I was shipped from Chicago to Boston State Prison for trial. My previous lawyers said it was impossible to get a fair trial in Chicago, and Boston's prison was apparently escape-proof. I was almost tempted to prove them wrong.

"Ceto Piovra." Judge Parkerson began. I looked up when he called my name. I may have hated my cursed name, but hearing these damn Americans butcher the pronunciation made my skin crawl. Call me what you will, but at least say my name right.

  
  "On today's date, March 11th, 2075, you have been found guilty by a jury of your peers of the ruthless murders of seventy-two men and women in the great city of Chicago, Illinois. The largest mass murder this nation has ever seen. You hunted down each and every one of these people in slaughtered them in cold blood. You have been found guilty of terrorist attacks. You bombed three separate police stations which resulted in thirty-one of those murders and fifty-four injuries from police officers, prisoners, and rescue teams. You have stolen properties valued at over four-million dollars. You alone, Ceto Piovra, have placed the entire city of Chicago into chaos on fear. Because of you, there have been riots in the streets and increased brutality against police officers. This once great city has plunged into anarchy because of your influence."

  
The old fart finally paused to take a breath. Just as expected he really was using as much diction as possible to rile the court room up more. But he was doing his job, just as I planned. Get to the point grandpa. Do it. Tell me I get to die. Let everyone know all of their fears will be gone. Let there be peace.

  
    "Never before in my fifty years of doing this have I ever seen anything so heinous. So Monstrous." Say it. "I have looked every piece of evidence over and taken into consideration your life prior," Come on. Quit milking it. "And I have decided that you will be sentenced to death, by means of electrocution."

  
Applause erupted in the court room. Tears of joy flowed from damn near every person who showed up. Mrs. Delaney put her hand on my shoulder and whispered an apology. But all I could do is smile.

  
"Finally." I whispered to no one. My lawyer's gentle features twisted in horror. Mrs. Delaney leaned in close so only I could hear her.

  
     "But we can get you help... We can get you into therapy... There has to be another way-" Mrs. Delaney seemed frantic. I interrupted her.  
"Mrs. Delaney... I want to die." Mrs. Delaney paused then asked me to repeat myself, citing my thick Italian accent as a reason she apparently didn't understand me. But I could see it in her eyes, she knew.

  
"Order! Order!!" Judge Parkerson pounded the gavel against the desk. However no amount of authoritative demands could stop Oz from celebrating the death of the wicked witch.  
He began reading off some more silly recited speech about my rights and where I was to go and for how long. I couldn't hear any of it. I could only hear my own thoughts. Finally. It'll be over. I get to join my husband...my son...

  
    The officer behind me yanked my restraints hard enough to pull me out of my thoughts and on to my feet. The court room was getting a bit too rowdy. I wonder if that was why they were evacuating me. It certainly wouldn't be the first time an angry mob stormed a court room...  
My mind temporarily drifted back to my brothers. My poor sweet brothers. Falsely accused of murder, yet despite the court finding them innocent, the people of Chicago were too driven by their hate of dagoes they decided they were guilty long before their court date.

  
   My lawyer scrambled to her feet and trotted after us in her ill-fitting heels as the pig dragged me through a side door. I couldn't stop smiling. Everything went so perfectly. For once!  
I was taken back to my holding cell to await transportation back to the prison where I was kept. I could hear the crowd still celebrating outside. It was a bit of a weird feeling to have hundreds of people whom I have never met to be excited about my death. But they certainly weren't wrong . My own drive for revenge is what brought me to become one of the most notorious serial killers the world has ever known.

  
     I sat on the only bench inside of the cell. The room was completely empty aside from this single bench against the farthest wall. To the left was the only door, while directly in front there was a large dark slab of one sided glass. The pigs could see me, but I couldn't see them. I could only see my reflection and stark white walls.  
My cheeks hurt from how much I was smiling. Outside I could hear Mrs. Delaney speaking to the pigs guarding the room. She seemed upset. I halfway wondered if they assigned her as my lawyer just to make sure I would lose my case. As if I wanted to win.

  
   Mrs. Delaney finally marched into the room, shoulders held back and squared. She was the only person who ever would enter a room with me when I wasn't restrained. Well, I had handcuffs on. But I could slip these off in less then a minute and the pigs knew it. I certainly did a good job and inspiring enough fear in every man here. They definitely will think twice now before bothering anyone ever again.  
My lawyer floated down on the bench next to me, a heavy sigh left her lips. An awkward silence filled the air between us. She pulled a handkerchief out of her breast pocket and dabbed her forehead.

  
    I watched our reflections in the mirrored glass. We certainly were an odd sight sitting side by side.. Nora Delaney with her white button up shirt that looked freshly ironed (I'm only assuming she did it herself. Her husband seemed very old school and incapable of house work.) and her navy knee length pencil skirt. She had a matching navy suit jacket that she had removed and placed in between us as a barrier. Funny enough she wore shiny black kitten heeled shoes as well. The way she walked I assumed it was the first time she ever wore heels. She was beautiful enough though that even with the handicap she had just this graceful and innocent womanly presence. I had to say I was a bit jealous.

  
   She looked clean cut and respectable. Especially compared to my much smaller self in my prison jumpsuit that had to be rolled up on both the legs and arms. My albino white hair and skin matched almost perfectly against the wall I leaned against while my pink eyes stood out against that horrible orange suit which also hid my body covered in tattoos. With my grin, I could see my two gold fangs that I hammered into my own gum-line after my original teeth were ripped out. The gold ones i wore were a prize I took from the pig who killed my brothers.

  
   "You don't feel any remorse?" She asked.  
The question threw me off guard. She had never been so brazen before, always professional. I rolled my head over to watch her with a raised eyebrow. The way she worded the question I assumed she was put off by my smiling.

  
    "No." I responded.  
Her eyebrows furrowed up and I could see the despair in her eyes. The worry. Perhaps I would have been better off with a male lawyer. These silly maternal instincts were really starting to get under my skin.  
"You don't care that seventy-two people are dead because of you?" She whispered this time. As if the people outside weren't allowed to know that a 15 year old girl murdered so much.

  
I shook my head. It was over now. Why is she asking now?  
    "Everyone I killed deserved it. They were all guilty of something. Something worse then I had ever done. Had I not done what I had done, Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?" I replied, asking her the question my father had asked me years ago. Quis custodiet ipsos custodes? Who will police the police?

  
Mrs. Delaney chewed on her lip and turned back to face forward. I could tell from her face that she understood the Latin. I suppose lawyers had to be familiar with some phrases as well.  
"Why did you do it?" What's with all the questions now? I rolled my eyes. That was an easy answer.  
"Revenge." I said. "For my brothers. My friends. And everyone the police have tortured."

  
"There have been crooked cops sure, but certainly not enough to warrant so many deaths... The American justice system would have caught up to them." Mrs. Delaney trailed off.

   That made me angry. Very angry. My teeth clamped shut, my gold fangs pressed painfully into my gums. My fingers curled up and extended repeatedly, something I did when I felt the need to hit something, or someone.

  
      "Do you know how it feels to watch your entire country to fall into turmoil around you? That when you finally are able to escape to a land of supposed freedom, you are met with hatred and mistrust?" I leaned forward where I sat and rested my elbow on my knees, I stared Mrs. Delaney straight in the eye. "I gave America a million chances. I worked hard with my brothers. We had an honest job. I did honest work. I gave the best deals possible to try and gain their trust. I tried to be sympathetic, I knew how awful the Italian mafia is. I wanted to show them how not all Italians were the same. And what happened? Because some racist pig cried 'dagoes' with his dying breath, every single Italian in New York was arrested. I was beaten. Tortured. My teeth were ripped out. My body violated. I was thirteen. My brothers were accused of some murder just because they were working late and didn't have an alibi because they were the only ones working late. Then when your JUSTICE system found them innocent, the people disagreed and stormed the prison and hung them from trees and shot them. Have you ever watched the bodies of your loved ones dangling naked from trees whilst being beaten like pinatas?"

    I hadn't spoken so much in years. I wasn't supposed to speak. Especially to lawyers. But it was over now, and I would be dead soon anyways. I didn't have to fear the mafia or my father or uncles or even the thieves guild any more. I don't even think I've ever spoken so much English at once. My words became garbled towards the end and probably weren't even coherent.

Mrs. Delaney was speechless. She just stared at me with those wide kind eyes. She felt sorry for me. I could tell. But I didn't want pity. I wanted to die. I wanted to join my husband and my baby. I wanted to leave this world of crooked cops and bigotry and secret criminal societies. I was so tired. the past three years of my life were hell and all I wanted to do was close my eyes and never deal with another hateful look just because of my hair color.

      A pig burst into the room causing my lawyer to jump up.  
"Ma'am. The prisoner's convoy is here to take her back to Boston State Prison to await her execution." He said, keeping a leg out of the door just in case he needed to escape. I smiled at him, flashing my fangs. The guard tried his best to avoid eye contact. I laughed.

  
"Y-yes. Of course." She brushed down her pencil skirt and composed herself. 'Atta girl Nora. Brush it off. These pigs can smell weakness.

  
"Ms. Piovra," My lawyer stated. I rose to my feet, my shackles jingling as I moved. She spoke my name perfectly, even with the R being rolled. The name wasn't even mine to start. My mother was just a nameless whore. My father took the name Piovra years ago. Or perhaps it was given. It means, Octopus. Because he was said to have an arm wrapped around every faction of the crime world. It was only natural that as I also began to embrace a life of crime I take on the same name.

 

    "I give my condolences for being unable to help you. Hopefully you will find peace in the next life."  
Mrs. Delaney gave me a sad fleeting glance, then drifted out of the only door. Three police officers filed in after her to take me to the car.

 

  
Just like that, after months of careful planning and strategically leaving evidence behind at crime scenes, I was finally sentenced to die. 

God is Good.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first full story I'm actually typing up and fleshing out! So please give me any criticisms you can think of. Thank you!
> 
> I had typed up a rough draft before, but having read through it again, it just didn't really make all that much sense. So I decided instead to try and type up the life of the characters BEFORE the events of Fallout 4 when the Sole Survivor leaves the vault. It'll be set about 10-15 years prior and follow John Hancock's life in Diamond city and his path to becoming mayor of Goodneighbor. Since I feel like that is a very interesting timeline not often written about, rather just mentioned in passing. I've done quite a bit of research this time and tried to keep everything lore friendly.


End file.
